


Last One Out

by radioqueen



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Divergence where Joan and Damien get caught instead of busting Mark out, Gen, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioqueen/pseuds/radioqueen
Summary: Fictober prompt: "Can you feel this?"





	Last One Out

“Can you feel this?” Wadsworth asked, sounding almost bored. “Or... how about now?”

Joan just screamed in response. She’d passed the point of witty comebacks more than an hour ago; she’d passed the point of having any sort of dignity a few minutes later, when the involuntary muscle contractions had forced her to wet herself. And she’d passed the point coherent speech... well, she didn’t know exactly how long ago, but it felt like Wadsworth had been stabbing electrified needles into her muscles for at least an hour.

“Really, Joan, it’s practically acupuncture,” Wadsworth said in amusement. “Opposite outcome, obviously, but same idea.”

Joan could only gasp as her body seized up again.

“Stop it!” Mark shouted. “God fucking dammit, stop! I told you, I can’t do it! You broke my goddamn superpower when you locked me in a coma for two years! Just stop fucking torturing my sister!” He growled in frustration. “Do it to me instead, you fucking coward!”

“Oh, believe me,” Wadsworth assured Mark. “If I thought there was any chance pain would help you recover, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it on you. But unfortunately, that doesn’t seem likely.”

She paused the electrical current, and Joan slumped against the chair she was bound to. Her whole body was bruised and whiplashed from all the jolting against her restraints. Joan and Wadsworth were in an “experimental room” adjacent to one side of Mark’s plexiglass cell, while Damien was sulking on the other side—just out of range to use his ability on Wadsworth.

“I think we’ll give it another go,” Wadsworth said cheerfully. “I need you to really concentrate, Mark.”

“No,” Joan begged, her voice so hoarse it was barely above a whisper. “Ellie, please, no, no!”

Wadsworth ignored her and sent electricity surging painfully through Joan’s exhausted muscles. Joan couldn’t even scream this time. Her throat felt like it was spasming shut. She was going to die, and Mark would stay the AM’s prisoner forever, and it was all her fault—

She sobbed in relief as Wadsworth suddenly ended the torture. Joan half-raised her head. Wadsworth hand lingered on the dial, but she was staring at it in surprise.

“Aren’t—” Joan struggled to catch her breath. “Aren’t you going to, to give us another smugly condescending one-liner?”

“No,” Wadsworth said. “I... don’t want to?”

Joan struggled to swallow a mouthful of saliva. She tasted blood; she must have bitten her tongue at some point, but she could barely register the pain. Then Wadsworth’s words finally hit her.

“Wait,” Joan said. “What did you just say?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Wadsworth said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I want... I want to let you go. How strange. It doesn’t feel at all like I imagined from your notes.”

“Mark.” Joan tried to focus her eyes on her brother, ignoring the sweat dripping from her brow. “Mark, you need to have her—”

“Uh, I’m not doing it, Joanie,” Mark said.

Joan squinted, trying even harder to focus past Mark at Damien’s cell. Even without the sweat, her lack of glasses made it difficult. But she could see Damien, his hands pressed against the clear walls allowing him to look through Mark’s room into her own.

“Tell him the only way out is she gives her passcode,” Joan said.

Mark turned and relayed the message to Damien. A moment later, Wadsworth slowly typed a six-digit code into the panel. With another push of a button and lazy pat of her hand on the biometric scanner, Damien’s and Mark’s cells slid open. They both rushed in to the experimental room, and Mark unbuckled Joan’s straps while Damien cornered Wadsworth.

“Not so high and mighty now, huh?” Damien sneered. “I could make you kill yourself right here, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop me.”

“Damien, no.” Joan rubbed her bruised wrists as Mark freed them. “If you kill someone, especially the director of the AM, they will  _definitely_ treat us like criminals.”

“Really? So what the fuck have the past two months been?” Damien snapped. “Atypical summer camp? Fuck that. I’m getting rid of her.”

“I’m with Damien,” Mark said. “Do it. But make it fast, because I don’t think Joanie can walk, and I still have bad days in that department.”

“Yeah, okay, got it,” Damien said. “Aha, scissors! Perfect.”

Joan closed her eyes even after Mark told her it was over. A moment later, Damien was yanking her up out of the chair. She leaned heavily on him.

“I got her key card,” Damien said. “Do we need anything else to get out of here? Her finger? Eyeball?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Joan said. “It’s just a normal government building.”

“Agree to disagree,” Mark said.

“Yeah.” Damien licked just under his nose, which Joan saw now was bleeding—she assumed from the exertion of straining his ability. He wiped his nose on the shoulder of his hospital scrubs. “Can you get us out of here, Doc?”

“I think so.” Joan pointed a shaky hand toward the left corridor. “We’re lucky. Wadsworth is so arrogant she never really believed Mark would get that far on his first try. I’m glad she wasn’t counting on you.”

“Me fucking too,” Damien muttered.

“Me three,” Mark said.

They were nearly out of Tier Five when an alarm sounded. Joan tightened her grip on the back of Damien’s shirt.

“That’s a lockdown alert,” she said.

“Oh, fuck that!” Damien tossed Joan over his shoulder. “Come on, Mark, buddy. Let’s hope you were right about being able to beat me in a race.”

“You’re on!” Mark laughed grimly. “Last one out’s a prisoner without due process.”

With that, they raced for the exit.


End file.
